


The Sun's Prettier Than the Stars

by HUSHHHUSHHUSH



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, DaveRose - Freeform, Dersecest - Freeform, Erotophonophilia, F/M, Incest, Sex, Violence, a bit of a crush fetish i guess, about murdering, and details, basically a lot of talking about murders, like the tiniest bit of formicophilia ever, some emetophilia??, what more could you ask for am i right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HUSHHHUSHHUSH/pseuds/HUSHHHUSHHUSH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in a place of night and moonlight makes basking in the sun so much more lovely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun's Prettier Than the Stars

He's sitting there, legs crossed and back against a tree, eyes closed. Probably staring at the colours behind his eyelids; the sun making shapes with the veins, pinkened by its light. Headphones covered his ears and gave off the dim feel that they were beating, pulsing with what was inside of them; ba-dumb, ba-dumb with the bass.

She's lying on the ground, in the grass; leaving the very sentiment of having a blanket behind with her cares. The sun shone, but not too bright, perfect for reading; the breeze breathed over what little skin she dared show; her long lashes brushed against the lashes of her sunglasses.

He inhaled.

She exhaled. 

She shrugged off her shirt, he did the same; the sun was too much. The heat was rising as they sat there, unmoving, baking in their peace.

The morning was still fairly young; the sun hardly at its peak. Rose sat up, shielding her eyes and glanced at its direction, approximising the time. She heaved a sigh and dropped her book onto the grass, the hard cover smashing a ladybug in the process. Coccinellidae, deceased. Long Live the Queen. Rose sat fully up, reaching behind herself and unclasping her bra, dropping it near her book. 

Was it a cry for attention? Was it some subconscious or unconsciously urged action that freud would have a field day with?

Most likely.

She smirked as she stretched out, fingertips reaching to the tip-top of the hill, feet towards the bottom. 

She closed her eyes and imagined his eyes on her; revelled in the feel of alien bugs slowly testing out her bared skin, proceeding to crawl along it without care. Rose licked her lips, laced her fingers together and made her palms kiss. 

Knight and Seer of Derse turned Prince and Princess of Prospit. 

The gold tinge of everything around her; from that grass with gold-leafed tips to the trees with gold-brushed bark- it sang of power. Of conquer. Of their success. 

"Dave," she whispered when she felt him lean over her, felt how he left behind his music, felt his breath and heartbeat. 

"That would be King to you." She could hear his smirk. Smell it. Taste it; and would, soon. 

She reached up, gripped his soft hair, just as fine as her own, and brought his lips to hers; ignoring that awkward initial miss and instead focused on the kiss.

On their lips and mouths working in sync; of that dance their tongues were so well-versed in, those sways and steps and curtsies of milady and the good sir. She could feel herself leading despite herself; knew that he was fine with it, how he relaxed into it, shrugged it off and followed her without qualms.

He tasted of the darkness of Home; the purple and darkest purple of night and Derse. He tasted of war and bloodshed. He tasted perfect and moulded perfectly with her; as if they were meant to be one.

As if it was right. 

They parted for air and laughed when they saw their cheeks reddened and pupils dilating in just the slightest. 

"If you're the King," she sat back up, shifted and positioned so she could pull him down, bring him down to her level and then lower. "Then just, dear King, would you appoint me as?" Rose laid him down and ran her hands along the smooth, roughed-by-scars skin of his chest, nuzzling her nose along his neck and trailing her tongue. "Would you knight me? Find my mind well enough to be your advisor?" Reaching lower, she undid his trousers and slowly pulled them down to his knees along with his pants. "Marry me and make your Queen?" She looked up to him, gave that quirk of the lips that was her 'signature' smirk. Teasing. Always teasing. 

His chest rumbled with that deep chuckle, and he cupped her cheeks in his hands, brought her closer. "Jester's too obvious," he tilted her head from side to side, studying her, causing her eyes to roll, "maybe a witch'll do. Just sit in some dungeon making whack as fuck potions with newt's eye and shit. Come up every now and then preaching about some dank mold god you think you're fighting against, just all like, 'Oh mister King Strider, ooh I need reinforcements'."

She peeled his hands off her face and rolled her eyes again, pursing her lips. "Oh? Isn't that Jade's job already?" She sat on his abdomen, legs criss-crossed, skirt lost somewhere in the midst of that movement. 

His face went sour and his gaze shifted behind his sunglasses. "Great time to bring that up, great job, there." He went to shove her off, sitting up just a bit, but she shoved him back down, hands strong on his shoulders.

"Calm the fuck down, you're so sensitive about that. There's this term, 'necessary sacrifice', and it's just that. A sacrifice that was entirely necessary." Staring him down, Rose kept her weight on his shoulders, keeping him from moving. 

"I know it was necessary," he spat, turning her face away from her. "It's not the fact that she's dead or whatever." The last part was whispered, hushed. Like a secret he wanted someone to hear.

She sat back, gave a small huff and trailed a finger down the centre of his chest. "You liked it," she said it quietly, too, but not so quiet that it was lost in what little wind passed. "You fucking liked it."

Dave swallowed and kept his head turned, gaze any where but at his sister. "Sure I did." He licked at his lips and opened his mouth to say more, but closed it again. He paused. Tried again. "As if you didn't."

Rose leaned forward again, placed a kiss on his temple. "Of course I did. Killing John was spectacular." She smirked when she felt him shudder under her, at her words. At the casuality of it all. She let her hand wander behind her, let it brush against his cock. "What did you like about it? I can list off quite a few things I liked, if that's something you'd want to hear."

Abruptly, he faced her, glasses clicking with her own hard enough to throw them off her face, nose hitting hers. "Stop," he hissed, going to move his hands, to stop her, to end all the fun, but she held him. Stretched and grabbed his wrists and held them down by his head. "You're making this into one of your games, aren't you." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. She giggled in response, straddling him, a knee on either side of his hip, hovering over his crotch.

"I'm not sure what I enjoyed more, his begging or asking me 'Why Rose, why'." She let herself fall forward just a bit, enough to bring her close to his neck. She kissed him there, nibbled a little, sucked at the skin to create light bruises. She curled a tongue around his earlobe, biting it and letting her lashes bat against his cheekbone. "We both know why, don't we, Dave?" She moved her hips; brushed them against his cock, teasing it, coaxing it. "And then the feel of his skin breaking way under my hand. It had an almost audible pop; do you remember that? I suppose it would be different with a blade, but-"

"Stop." He was grimacing, hands curled into a fist. But he wasn't really fighting. He wasn't pulling at her or kicking or pushing; he was just lying there. Taking it.

"No." She slowly released his wrists, testing him. Rose left him with a clear message; the only way she was going to stop was if he stopped her. She gave him a moment or too, merely kissing a light line along his collar bones, before starting up again. "And then it was that crunch, after he hit his head on the ground. When I stomped on it." She felt his hands twitch, knew he was still teeter-tottering. Up and down; yes or no, like or disgust. Rose knew where it would land, where it would always lang.

"Then there's the blood. How it was everywhere; sometimes I feel like I can still smell it on me, see it under my nails. Very Lady Macbeth of me." She shifted down, down, down, until she was placing kisses on the tip of his cock. Which was hardening, the fact elciting a grin from her. 

"Rose," she looked up at him, quirked an eyebrow. "Stop." 

She laughed, full-on laughed. A light, tinkling sound that belonged to a princess, indeed. "The lady doth protest too much," she wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, pumping it a few times before lapping at the head, giggling as it firmed in response. "No-need to feel ashamed of a little kink, King and Ruler of all of Prospit and Derse." 

Dave cringed, dug his nails into his palms, but couldn't help it. Couldn't help but think back to his blade slicing through Jade's neck; how he didn't go deep enough the first time and didn't hit the right spot the second. The third, fourth, fifth and beyond stabs and cuts were nothing but for sick pleasure. The way he could practically taste her tears and how she vomited and pissed all over herself in the body's attempt to somehow make itself even more disgusting after all her shitty magic was deemed useless. 

Time beats Space.

He moaned when he felt Rose's mouth around him, tongue working, swirling his tip and dipping into the slit. "Fuck," he groaned, raising his hips to that warm, wet heat. 

She laughed around him, letting him have a few minutes of just her mouth, tongue, silence, and the past in his head. 

Her tongue kept working as she let his dick deeper into her mouth, she let it push against her gag reflex and fought through it, taking him into her throat and rolling her tongue along his shaft as it slid into her. She couldn't quite make it all the way and that was a mild disappointment, but she made sure to do well without that victory. She rolled his balls in her hand, letting herself drool enough to drip onto them, to wet them. Rose kept good control of her breathing and pace, knowing well that pace was very important to her brother. She took a minutes to focus on that area under the head, where she could feel a small gathering of little veins just under the skin, knowing that was a place that Dave thoroughly enjoyed. He was holding back; she could feel that. With a small press on his hip, he got the message, and let himself give a light thrust into her mouth. She groaned and so did he, another thrust pushing his cock deep into her throat and grazing against her teeth. He hissed and she laved at the nonexistant wound, trying to reach with her tongue as best she could before she slipped him out of her mouth, small little tendrils of saliva still connecting her lips to his cock before she broke them with a finger.

"Do you remember that sound?" Rose whispered, crawling up atop of him, brushing her labia against the underside of his shaft. "The 'death rattle', as they call it. That breath? The way you could see their eyes dim, how it's just as poetic as books and movies and even more grotesque." She did the same movement, a light brush that caused a twitch in his cock; one she took advantage of and quickly caught his tip with her entrance. "Or the smell," she hissed as she slowly pushed herself onto him, clenching and unclenching her inner muscles around him, drawing him in further. "That reek of shit, piss, and vomit. And then the blood." 

He bit at his lip, finding everything so disgusting about what she was saying and what he was remembering but finding it so, so appealing all at the same time. He could remember. Very, very clearly, he could remember how everything sounded and smelled and even tasted.

"I tasted her," he said, voice breathless and harsh. "Cut off her head and gave her a little kiss," he groaned when Rose slammed herself down upon him, "no chick should die without kissing a Strider at least once."

Rose moaned, grinding herself on him, hands on his chest. "That's so lovely, how did she taste? Tell me, tell your sister." She raised herself just a tad, muscles in her thighs shaking already with the effort as she held herself there, waiting for his words.

It took him a moment to find the right diction before he felt satisfied enough, "Like God. As if I was God, I could taste everything I was in her. All that fucking vomit- ah, shit-" he gasped as Rose started to move finally, a neat and well-paced a-little-forward-and-up-and-then-back-down movement that he knew, just fucking knew, she was using for herself. To hit that one spot. "That- vomit. The stink of it and the biles just it shouldn't have been so good but it was, and mixed with blood so it was this sick orange colour and- God, fuck, shit Rose-" she sped up. He thrusted back up into her, that sound of flesh-on-flesh being caught and lost in the echoless space around them, in the sunlight, in the bugs getting caught in their juices, in the tree to their right and her book just a few feet away and their clothing scattered around. "And her eyes- fuck, I still fucking have them. I took them with me, Rose. I just ripped them out one at a time and shoved them down my pants and Jesus fucking shit-" they both were getting intense, close to their end and racing each other, feeding off his words and their murders; the killing of their once-friends, the killing of the holders of the kingdom they now ruled, John and Jade. Blue and green. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. 

"I have John's," Rose panted, forehead pressed to his, "I have them and they're beautiful. Blue and gorgeous, I wish I had hundreds." 

He gripped her hips and moved quicker, slamming and pounding into her, rhythm lost in favour of the finish. "I wanted to fuck her like that, dead and mangled and bloody and God, fuck, why do I love that smell? I want her to fucking rot on my cock," they were breathing so heavily, so laboured, and moving together and apart at the same time; each fucking for each others pleasure but mostly their own. She swallowed back a cry as she peaked; giving a shudder and whine before she tensed, jerking her hips on him and digging her nails into his chest until blood was drawn, eyes rolling into the back of her head and mouth gaping open. He groaned and thrusted deep and hard, picturing Jade's decapitated head and destoryed body, picturing the feel of her guts all over his dick and then that was it. One last thrust and then a few more shallow and he was emptying himself into his sister, pulse after pulse and he was wondering what it would feel like to have his sister's come be her blood and bile from her stomach instead, from Jade, the only time he wanted her, either than for her kingdom. It felt like forever until he was done, until every last endorphin has flooded his system and left enough for him to come back to reality.

And then everything hit him at once. 

He sat up quickly, shoving Rose off of him and twisted, vomitting all over Rose's panties, fingers curling in the grass and ripping it out, skin crawling at disgust at himself. At what he had done, at what thought he had done it to.

He flinched at Rose's hand rubbing at his back between his shoulder blades. "There there," she said, moving closer to rub her soft cheek against his sweat-dampened shoulder, "I'm sure you'll get over it soon." He merely shook his head at her, pushing at her again, only to have her push harder. "Then give me her eyes."

Dave stopped, stared down at his own puddle of self-loathing. 

"No."

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is so vanilla  
> ugh everything i touch turns into porn  
> ps i didn't review this so there's probably spelling and grammatical and pacing errors EVERYWHERE


End file.
